All Reno Vamps and Bloodlines are mine—the rest belong to James Parriott and Co. Thanks, reviewers!
I've changed some things—continuity problems, etc. Sorry!
On with the show-----
CHAPTER 4
Now, it was a known fact in the lore of the Undead that corpses and animals did not get along—Dracula fiction and "children of the night" aside. Sidney, Nat's cat, never did warm up to Nick and he never had any real success with any other animal. So imagine his surprise to walk down the hall and into Cary's bedroom and see him playing tug-of-war with a large dog.
On the bed, in gray flannel pajamas, Cary was pulling on one end of a rope and the German Shepherd was on the other end. Nick's mouth fell open. Cary glanced up, with a sheepish grin, and let go of the rope. The dog took this as a sign of success and moved toward the foot of the bed to chew on its trophy.
"I've had her since she was three weeks old," said the dark vampire, as a way of explanation. He got out of the bed and pulled on an old-fashioned Banyan. It was a calico morning gown with flared skirts, rather popular a century ago, but not worn since then. Once again, Cary managed to date himself. "She also watches the house while I'm out, and I've trained her to keep watch on the maid."
He slipped into a matching pair of bed shoes, and yawned.
"I am, to acknowledge the corn, a rather late riser. But, never mind that, we need to find you a place to stay, and also for your—center, shall we say?"
With that, he led the way out of the room and around the corner and down the wide staircase. This led into an octagon-shaped room and into a rather large room. It had red carpet on the floor and gray print wallpaper. The room was chock full of John Belter furniture—elaborate chairs, both a piano and pianoforte, two large fireplaces—Nick had not seen such a room since, maybe, Gone With the Wind.
"Have a seat and I'll get breakfast."
Nick sat in one of the velour chairs with the rosewood scrollwork. It was not to his taste and not a room you could be very comfortable in. Cary came back carrying two glasses and a newspaper. He gave one to Nick, who sniffed at it. It wasn't exactly blood--.
"Plasma. Perfect early evening drink, sort of like a human's fruit juice."
"No, thanks," said Nick, putting the glass down. Plasma, still human. Cary looked at him quizzically.
"You know, Nick, plasma is donated nowadays. If you're really serious about this homeless thing, you'll learn that a lot of people down on their luck donate plasma for money—willingly. Taste it, you'll see."
With another sigh, Nick picked up the glass of orangy liquid. He took a sip and had to admit it had a sort of fruity, sweet taste. He also picked up the donor, a single mother who had to get diapers for her baby and so she made the trip to the center to donate a pint. He supposed if he had to drink human, at least it was volunteered human.
"See, told you. I wouldn't have given you regular, a good host knows their guests habits."
Nick shook his head. This guy seemed to know an awful lot about him. Cary took out the classified section and opened it to real estate.
"Lots of warehouses here. But I'll presume you want something close in, so people could get to it, right?"
That did it.
"How do you know I need a warehouse? Or about the center? Or about the blood?" demanded the former detective.
A shrug. "The vampire community is not large, Nick. When a big bug such as yourself, with your age and money, decides to absquatulate, usually the leader of the community where he goes is notified. So, Aristotle notified me. Well, technically, he notified Andy, who told me."
"So Andy is the leader of the community here?"
"No, I'm the biggest toad in the puddle. Yes I know," he answered to a curious look, "I'm too young to have the position, someone not born in the woods to be scared by an owl should have it. I've heard it all, do tell. But that's a lot of bunkum. I am part of a codfish aristocracy, I'm death on diplomacy, and I ask no odds of anybody. Plus I was appointed by the Council, and they did have their reasons."
A smile from Nick, and a question.
"When were you brought across? Eighteen hundred and what?"
"My slang again, huh? As I've said, and you might have surmised, I'm not very old." Cary said this with a bit of petulance, as if used to people saying things about it. "1897."
That took the other aback. He suspected from his speech, Cary was not old, but just over a century? Usually the oldest vampire in the community would be the leader; hence LaCroix led the community in Toronto. So the undead in Reno must be awful young, or Cary must be awful ruthless.
"So," said he, clearing his throat, "anything good in the paper?"
Cary grinned glad for the change in conversation. He was used to having to explain himself but it did get tiring.
"Yep. Here's one at 200,000 square feet, off Mill Street. That should be big enough."
Nick nodded. "I've been doing some research on this. Most homeless woman are that way because they cannot find resources like child care, so they have to take minimum wage jobs to survive and that will not support them to find a flat."
"So, you want not only shelter, but an entire program? Daycare, work programs, et cetra?"
"I do. That way we can make these woman self-sufficient."
"Makes sense." A thought. "So, will you live on property, or would you need a house?"
"Since I can only help at certain hours, I think living on site would work."
"No doubt," said Cary, dryly. "And only women and children?"
"Yes. Maybe if there's a need, single fathers and children or families."
"Well, with no religious affiliation, this should be easy to get past the City Council, who has to approve the zoning and permits."
That thought had not occurred to Nick. Cary looked amused.
"Don't worry. I know someone on the council who could get it pushed through. It's just that most of the shelters in town are affiliated with some kind of church. That makes it harder to get things approved, as the government does not want to give money to such groups. But you're going have an easy time at this, I reckon."
"Are you always so helpful to vampires trying to make mortal lives easier?"
"Let's just say that I think that a shelter for woman and children is a great idea and leave it at that, alright? And no, usually I do not want to make their lives any simpler then they have it."
The rest of the evening was spent looking over the ads trying to come up with a good location. Cary, once you got through the reserve and the 19th century phrases, proved to be an agreeable host. Later, when Nick popped open a bottle of his favorite bovine vintage, Cary just blinked and said nothing, which was tactful.
Around 3 in the morning, Nick got the grand tour of the house. What Cary called the keeping room (actually just a large family room), led through the circular sitting room into a formal front parlor, or living room. Through the foyer and past the front staircase was the library. Up the stairs, were four very large bedrooms, all with tremendous canopied beds and walls in print wallpaper. Cary's room had a unique feature: tucked away behind a door that Nick figured was a closet, was a staircase leading to a turret, a perfect landing and taking off place. Plus the front bedrooms led to a covered balcony which ran across the front of the house, another place which facilitated flying. A high brick wall that from the second floor gave a view of the city below surrounded the backyard. It also gave a nice cover for any special vampiric abilities. There were no flowers, for the yard was xeroscaped for the high desert environment. The back staircase led to the kitchen and a rear parlor off of this and then back again into the keeping room. In all, it was a home that fitted vampires very nicely, no one would ever suspect that a supernatural creature lived here.
Soon enough, rosy fingered dawn came over the mountains to the east and that meant bed. Cary joked that he could never stay up past 7am.
The next night, they went to dinner at one of Reno's better restaurants with a woman named Toni Ivey—the City Council member Cary knew. She was tall with raven colored hair and blue eyes, and was human. Nick never was one for such schmoozing, but Cary was very good at it. He used his devastating good looks along with all of his vampire seductive qualities to get this unsuspecting lady to plead Nick's case before the next meeting the next night. Nick attended this and made a good case, especially when they it was a purely secular venture. So, without any public debate he got his permits.
The next step was finding a place. The building first mentioned by Cary turned out to be the best. It was a long building with office space and warehousing. The warehouse would be turned into the sleeping area, some of the offices would be the daycare, and the rest would be for other projects. Plus there was a grassy area that could be fenced in and made into a child's playground. Nick met with the people from Project Restart and they seemed grateful for his help. All the rest of the week was spent going over blueprints. His living quarters would be on the second floor, over the sleeping quarters, since they would be empty during the day. It was big enough for all his things and he even managed an inner office away from any windows. He still stayed at Cary's house, as it would take about a month to get everything habitable for anything at all.
Speaking of Cary, Nick found out he owed the company S & G Enterprises. What they did there was still a mystery, but they had a nice office around the Longley Lane/Peckham Road area, only open nights, or second and third shift as they called it here in Reno. He worked from 8pm until 5am, vampire banker hours. They also got along famously for Cary was hard to rattle and nonjudgmental. Nick's longevity and what he had seen and done fascinated him, in turn. As an Eastern City dweller when he lived, Cary was enthralled by Nick's adventures around the world during the late 1800's, especially during the Civil War.
By Friday of the next week, Nick needed some R&R from his plans. Everything was going smoothly, but he needed some excitement like he had gotten from police work. He thought wryly that he would not want to be a homicide detective in Reno, there was no real crime. Break-ins, car theft and other larceny went on, but not a lot of murder and mayhem. So he was amiable to Cary's suggestion of going out on the town.
Where they actually went was a club called Bloodlines. Not for reasons Nick first thought, but named for the horses on the walls. It was a dance club, like The Raven, but not as Goth. It was sort of a vampire version of a yuppie bar, with a strict door policy. Cary had told him to dress and he was glad he had.
The bouncer knew Cary and treated him with a kind of awed respect. Nick supposed that came from the fact that the dark vamp was the leader of the pack. Led by a door hostess to a table, they sat. A cocktail waitress came up. Cary ordered for them both, telling Nick for the time being to just drink regular until they knew him. Not liking it, Nick agreed. A bottle was soon set down and the bloodwine was poured. The vintage was excellent, the blood expertly cut with Bordeaux. They sat there watching the dancers when Nick noticed a slinky redhead and a blonde approach from behind Cary. A low, almost unnoticed growl in the elder vampire's throat alerted Cary to their presence. The redhead put both arms around Cary's neck and turned his head towards her for a kiss. Her friend sat next to Nick with a smile. Cary turned back.
"Nick Knight, Jill Collins," he introduced the redhead. "And that's Sonya Modell, our southern belle."
Jill took a seat next to Cary, still hanging on and laying kisses all over his neck. He untangled himself from her arms.
"When'd you get back?" he asked her.
"Yesterday. Don't you pick up messages anymore?" she pouted, as another vampire came up to the table.
"Cary!" greeted the short Latin woman.
He got up and kissed the other on the cheek. "Maria, how have you been?"
"We just got back from New York, what a hassle." She looked around. "Paul? Where did he go?"
A heavyset vampire came up, carrying a bottle.
"Ty's newest," he explained to the group, as he held out a chair for the Latina and then sat.
"Nick, meet Maria Ruiz and Paul Silasi. Paul, Nick was in Italy for the Renaissance."
"Were you?" A moment of silence, as if he was trying to place Nick. Then a glimmer of recognition. "One of LaCroix's? I think we may have met."
Nick admitted to that. Soon others came up until there were at least 20 bloodsuckers at the table, including Tyler Peery who owned Sangster Winery, maker of fine bloodwine since the early 1800's. Nick knew of Sangster Wines, they were sold at The Raven. Only two others made an impression on Nick. One was Alexi Borisnovo, who Nick didn't quite trust, for some reason. When asked what he did, he told Nick with a cold smile that he solved problems, but was not an Enforcer.
The next vampire was an Enforcer. This was Colin—pronounced Nick was informed as Cole-in, like the appendage in the body. Three archetypal vamps of Colin's type—Sylvester, Josiah, and Trent, trailed him. Also a female Enforcer named Peg Hannlin, who spoke in a broad Scotch accent. Used to silent types such as the trio, Nick was stunned by Colin and Peg. Colin was charismatic, in his way and Peg was just loud.
Then over came another female vamp whose eyes alighted upon Nick and made a beeline for him. She pushed Paul, who was sitting next to him, out of his chair. This caused the other to grumble and to grab another seat from the next table over. Cary, in conversation with Alexi and Colin, looked over.
"Ah, I knew it," he said with a broad smile. "Nick Knight, Esme Ruto."
I've changed some things—continuity problems, etc. Sorry!
On with the show-----
CHAPTER 4
Now, it was a known fact in the lore of the Undead that corpses and animals did not get along—Dracula fiction and "children of the night" aside. Sidney, Nat's cat, never did warm up to Nick and he never had any real success with any other animal. So imagine his surprise to walk down the hall and into Cary's bedroom and see him playing tug-of-war with a large dog.
On the bed, in gray flannel pajamas, Cary was pulling on one end of a rope and the German Shepherd was on the other end. Nick's mouth fell open. Cary glanced up, with a sheepish grin, and let go of the rope. The dog took this as a sign of success and moved toward the foot of the bed to chew on its trophy.
"I've had her since she was three weeks old," said the dark vampire, as a way of explanation. He got out of the bed and pulled on an old-fashioned Banyan. It was a calico morning gown with flared skirts, rather popular a century ago, but not worn since then. Once again, Cary managed to date himself. "She also watches the house while I'm out, and I've trained her to keep watch on the maid."
He slipped into a matching pair of bed shoes, and yawned.
"I am, to acknowledge the corn, a rather late riser. But, never mind that, we need to find you a place to stay, and also for your—center, shall we say?"
With that, he led the way out of the room and around the corner and down the wide staircase. This led into an octagon-shaped room and into a rather large room. It had red carpet on the floor and gray print wallpaper. The room was chock full of John Belter furniture—elaborate chairs, both a piano and pianoforte, two large fireplaces—Nick had not seen such a room since, maybe, Gone With the Wind.
"Have a seat and I'll get breakfast."
Nick sat in one of the velour chairs with the rosewood scrollwork. It was not to his taste and not a room you could be very comfortable in. Cary came back carrying two glasses and a newspaper. He gave one to Nick, who sniffed at it. It wasn't exactly blood--.
"Plasma. Perfect early evening drink, sort of like a human's fruit juice."
"No, thanks," said Nick, putting the glass down. Plasma, still human. Cary looked at him quizzically.
"You know, Nick, plasma is donated nowadays. If you're really serious about this homeless thing, you'll learn that a lot of people down on their luck donate plasma for money—willingly. Taste it, you'll see."
With another sigh, Nick picked up the glass of orangy liquid. He took a sip and had to admit it had a sort of fruity, sweet taste. He also picked up the donor, a single mother who had to get diapers for her baby and so she made the trip to the center to donate a pint. He supposed if he had to drink human, at least it was volunteered human.
"See, told you. I wouldn't have given you regular, a good host knows their guests habits."
Nick shook his head. This guy seemed to know an awful lot about him. Cary took out the classified section and opened it to real estate.
"Lots of warehouses here. But I'll presume you want something close in, so people could get to it, right?"
That did it.
"How do you know I need a warehouse? Or about the center? Or about the blood?" demanded the former detective.
A shrug. "The vampire community is not large, Nick. When a big bug such as yourself, with your age and money, decides to absquatulate, usually the leader of the community where he goes is notified. So, Aristotle notified me. Well, technically, he notified Andy, who told me."
"So Andy is the leader of the community here?"
"No, I'm the biggest toad in the puddle. Yes I know," he answered to a curious look, "I'm too young to have the position, someone not born in the woods to be scared by an owl should have it. I've heard it all, do tell. But that's a lot of bunkum. I am part of a codfish aristocracy, I'm death on diplomacy, and I ask no odds of anybody. Plus I was appointed by the Council, and they did have their reasons."
A smile from Nick, and a question.
"When were you brought across? Eighteen hundred and what?"
"My slang again, huh? As I've said, and you might have surmised, I'm not very old." Cary said this with a bit of petulance, as if used to people saying things about it. "1897."
That took the other aback. He suspected from his speech, Cary was not old, but just over a century? Usually the oldest vampire in the community would be the leader; hence LaCroix led the community in Toronto. So the undead in Reno must be awful young, or Cary must be awful ruthless.
"So," said he, clearing his throat, "anything good in the paper?"
Cary grinned glad for the change in conversation. He was used to having to explain himself but it did get tiring.
"Yep. Here's one at 200,000 square feet, off Mill Street. That should be big enough."
Nick nodded. "I've been doing some research on this. Most homeless woman are that way because they cannot find resources like child care, so they have to take minimum wage jobs to survive and that will not support them to find a flat."
"So, you want not only shelter, but an entire program? Daycare, work programs, et cetra?"
"I do. That way we can make these woman self-sufficient."
"Makes sense." A thought. "So, will you live on property, or would you need a house?"
"Since I can only help at certain hours, I think living on site would work."
"No doubt," said Cary, dryly. "And only women and children?"
"Yes. Maybe if there's a need, single fathers and children or families."
"Well, with no religious affiliation, this should be easy to get past the City Council, who has to approve the zoning and permits."
That thought had not occurred to Nick. Cary looked amused.
"Don't worry. I know someone on the council who could get it pushed through. It's just that most of the shelters in town are affiliated with some kind of church. That makes it harder to get things approved, as the government does not want to give money to such groups. But you're going have an easy time at this, I reckon."
"Are you always so helpful to vampires trying to make mortal lives easier?"
"Let's just say that I think that a shelter for woman and children is a great idea and leave it at that, alright? And no, usually I do not want to make their lives any simpler then they have it."
The rest of the evening was spent looking over the ads trying to come up with a good location. Cary, once you got through the reserve and the 19th century phrases, proved to be an agreeable host. Later, when Nick popped open a bottle of his favorite bovine vintage, Cary just blinked and said nothing, which was tactful.
Around 3 in the morning, Nick got the grand tour of the house. What Cary called the keeping room (actually just a large family room), led through the circular sitting room into a formal front parlor, or living room. Through the foyer and past the front staircase was the library. Up the stairs, were four very large bedrooms, all with tremendous canopied beds and walls in print wallpaper. Cary's room had a unique feature: tucked away behind a door that Nick figured was a closet, was a staircase leading to a turret, a perfect landing and taking off place. Plus the front bedrooms led to a covered balcony which ran across the front of the house, another place which facilitated flying. A high brick wall that from the second floor gave a view of the city below surrounded the backyard. It also gave a nice cover for any special vampiric abilities. There were no flowers, for the yard was xeroscaped for the high desert environment. The back staircase led to the kitchen and a rear parlor off of this and then back again into the keeping room. In all, it was a home that fitted vampires very nicely, no one would ever suspect that a supernatural creature lived here.
Soon enough, rosy fingered dawn came over the mountains to the east and that meant bed. Cary joked that he could never stay up past 7am.
The next night, they went to dinner at one of Reno's better restaurants with a woman named Toni Ivey—the City Council member Cary knew. She was tall with raven colored hair and blue eyes, and was human. Nick never was one for such schmoozing, but Cary was very good at it. He used his devastating good looks along with all of his vampire seductive qualities to get this unsuspecting lady to plead Nick's case before the next meeting the next night. Nick attended this and made a good case, especially when they it was a purely secular venture. So, without any public debate he got his permits.
The next step was finding a place. The building first mentioned by Cary turned out to be the best. It was a long building with office space and warehousing. The warehouse would be turned into the sleeping area, some of the offices would be the daycare, and the rest would be for other projects. Plus there was a grassy area that could be fenced in and made into a child's playground. Nick met with the people from Project Restart and they seemed grateful for his help. All the rest of the week was spent going over blueprints. His living quarters would be on the second floor, over the sleeping quarters, since they would be empty during the day. It was big enough for all his things and he even managed an inner office away from any windows. He still stayed at Cary's house, as it would take about a month to get everything habitable for anything at all.
Speaking of Cary, Nick found out he owed the company S & G Enterprises. What they did there was still a mystery, but they had a nice office around the Longley Lane/Peckham Road area, only open nights, or second and third shift as they called it here in Reno. He worked from 8pm until 5am, vampire banker hours. They also got along famously for Cary was hard to rattle and nonjudgmental. Nick's longevity and what he had seen and done fascinated him, in turn. As an Eastern City dweller when he lived, Cary was enthralled by Nick's adventures around the world during the late 1800's, especially during the Civil War.
By Friday of the next week, Nick needed some R&R from his plans. Everything was going smoothly, but he needed some excitement like he had gotten from police work. He thought wryly that he would not want to be a homicide detective in Reno, there was no real crime. Break-ins, car theft and other larceny went on, but not a lot of murder and mayhem. So he was amiable to Cary's suggestion of going out on the town.
Where they actually went was a club called Bloodlines. Not for reasons Nick first thought, but named for the horses on the walls. It was a dance club, like The Raven, but not as Goth. It was sort of a vampire version of a yuppie bar, with a strict door policy. Cary had told him to dress and he was glad he had.
The bouncer knew Cary and treated him with a kind of awed respect. Nick supposed that came from the fact that the dark vamp was the leader of the pack. Led by a door hostess to a table, they sat. A cocktail waitress came up. Cary ordered for them both, telling Nick for the time being to just drink regular until they knew him. Not liking it, Nick agreed. A bottle was soon set down and the bloodwine was poured. The vintage was excellent, the blood expertly cut with Bordeaux. They sat there watching the dancers when Nick noticed a slinky redhead and a blonde approach from behind Cary. A low, almost unnoticed growl in the elder vampire's throat alerted Cary to their presence. The redhead put both arms around Cary's neck and turned his head towards her for a kiss. Her friend sat next to Nick with a smile. Cary turned back.
"Nick Knight, Jill Collins," he introduced the redhead. "And that's Sonya Modell, our southern belle."
Jill took a seat next to Cary, still hanging on and laying kisses all over his neck. He untangled himself from her arms.
"When'd you get back?" he asked her.
"Yesterday. Don't you pick up messages anymore?" she pouted, as another vampire came up to the table.
"Cary!" greeted the short Latin woman.
He got up and kissed the other on the cheek. "Maria, how have you been?"
"We just got back from New York, what a hassle." She looked around. "Paul? Where did he go?"
A heavyset vampire came up, carrying a bottle.
"Ty's newest," he explained to the group, as he held out a chair for the Latina and then sat.
"Nick, meet Maria Ruiz and Paul Silasi. Paul, Nick was in Italy for the Renaissance."
"Were you?" A moment of silence, as if he was trying to place Nick. Then a glimmer of recognition. "One of LaCroix's? I think we may have met."
Nick admitted to that. Soon others came up until there were at least 20 bloodsuckers at the table, including Tyler Peery who owned Sangster Winery, maker of fine bloodwine since the early 1800's. Nick knew of Sangster Wines, they were sold at The Raven. Only two others made an impression on Nick. One was Alexi Borisnovo, who Nick didn't quite trust, for some reason. When asked what he did, he told Nick with a cold smile that he solved problems, but was not an Enforcer.
The next vampire was an Enforcer. This was Colin—pronounced Nick was informed as Cole-in, like the appendage in the body. Three archetypal vamps of Colin's type—Sylvester, Josiah, and Trent, trailed him. Also a female Enforcer named Peg Hannlin, who spoke in a broad Scotch accent. Used to silent types such as the trio, Nick was stunned by Colin and Peg. Colin was charismatic, in his way and Peg was just loud.
Then over came another female vamp whose eyes alighted upon Nick and made a beeline for him. She pushed Paul, who was sitting next to him, out of his chair. This caused the other to grumble and to grab another seat from the next table over. Cary, in conversation with Alexi and Colin, looked over.
"Ah, I knew it," he said with a broad smile. "Nick Knight, Esme Ruto."